


The fear of falling apart

by JamesBarnes (Castielchester)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Confusion, Drabble, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loss of Identity, M/M, Self-Hatred, Steve Rogers loves Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 19:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14599878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castielchester/pseuds/JamesBarnes
Summary: For Steve Bucky isBucky, regardless of lost time, but for Bucky it's not that easy.





	The fear of falling apart

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing stucky or anything along the lines of that so please be nice, I know I am not good at all, it was just a scene that kept playing in my head for a few days and had to get it down!

When Steve enters the apartment the first thing he hears is a soft mumbling off in the distance, the low rumble that signals him to Bucky. It is not unusual for him to stay cooped up in their bedroom so Steve slowly makes his way back there.

The only light in the room is the setting sun that filters in through the curtains of their window, casting a soft glow on Bucky, who is hunched against the wall, holding a picture frame, studying it hard. The way he furrows his eyebrows and quirks his lips is so _normal_ it makes Steve forget for a split second everything they’d been through.

“Who is he?”

Bucky’s voice breaks through the silence and Steve smiles softly and moves forward, thinking he’s found one of his old pictures with a friend. Steve settles himself on the floor beside Bucky, putting his arm around his waist before looking down at the picture.

It takes him a moment, it really does, moving Bucky’s finger out of the way even though he knows exactly who is in the frame; the picture is permanently seared behind his eyelids.

“Buck, that- that’s _you_.”

Steve cannot hide the quiver in his voice, looking to Bucky’s face to see if he’s joking, but the wide eyed confusion tells him that is not the fact.

The picture had followed him everywhere, he’d even had a smaller one made for his wallet. He and Bucky standing together, eyes crinkled and mouths open in laughter. Steve could remember it like it was yesterday, Bucky with his short hair and toothy smile, as always he was breathtaking.

Steve swallows back a lump in his throat and tries to smile it off, he is probably just having an off day, that isn’t anything new, but something about his question makes Steve feel wrong, which festers into something akin to acid in his stomach when Bucky speaks up again,

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

Bucky turns to him this time, not quite looking at him but enough for Steve to see his expression is almost that of jealousy. Steve grabs the frame gently, taking a deep breath before responding, “Of course I loved him, he’s _you_ Bucky, I loved you then and I love you now, that will never change.”

Steve brushes a few strands of hair from Bucky’s face, not missing the sadness that sets his features, the way he mouths his name, like if he speaks it aloud it will leave him again.

Steve doesn’t know what to say, which is nothing new as of recent, what do you say to someone who has had their identity stripped from them, beaten into submission. The only thing he can do is live in the now and try to make it up to Bucky.

“C’mon pal let’s-”

“I hate him.”

 Steve freezes his attempt to lift himself and Bucky off the floor, grounded by the sheer malice in Bucky’s voice, not missing the way he stares angrily at the picture of himself.

“I...” He starts again and Steve feels an internal war wage inside of him, he does not want to hear the sheer pain and loss in his best friend’s voice but it is also so rare for Bucky to speak what he feels that Steve does not have the heart to stop him.

 “I hate him.” Bucky’s voice is rising and his body is shaking, prosthetic hand reaching out to snatch the frame, cracking the glass which spiders and obscures their faces. “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.” He’s _screaming_ and Steve can’t take it anymore, jumping in once the picture frame slams against the opposing wall with a dull thud.

Steve wraps his arms around him, “hey it’s okay, I’ve got you,” pressing Bucky’s head to his chest so he can follow Steve’s own heartbeat, as erratic as it is. It feels like a lifetime before Bucky’s breathing evens out and he goes still and quiet, pliant against Steve’s solid form.

When Steve is sure he’s calmed down he slowly guides Bucky up and off the floor, settling onto the bed, holding him close and whispering words short and sweet to keep him calm.

“I’m sorry you lost him.”

Bucky’s voice is small and remorseful, Steve wonders if he’s speaking to him or himself. He presses his face to Bucky’s hair, hiding the wetness of his face and speaks softly,

“It’s okay we’ll find him.”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually have an idea for more but I don't know if i'll post it.


End file.
